


Renegades

by kilobyte



Series: Alone Together [1]
Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter/Funhaus RPF
Genre: Explicit Language, Fake AH Crew, GTA! au, Immortal Fake AH Crew, M/M, Origin Story, Orphans, and half the characters are barely there as well but hey this is about ray and ryan, tbh they're more platonic than anything but eh
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-23
Updated: 2016-03-23
Packaged: 2018-05-28 15:38:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,492
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6334663
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kilobyte/pseuds/kilobyte
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ray was alone in the world until Ryan came along. Then they were alone together.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Renegades

**Author's Note:**

> Oh wow it’s been over a year since I updated From False to Flesh hahaha… (oops)  
> I realized the other night that I never posted this after it was done; so I figured why not edit it and post it now, right?  
> This was the gift I gave during the Ragehappy Secret Santa on Tumblr. I hope you enjoy, and feel free to leave a review!

_“Run away-ay with me_

_Lost souls in revelry_

_Running wild and running free_

_Two kids, you and me.”_

_\- Renegades, X Ambassadors_

 

_February of 1929; Los Santos California_

“Oof!”

Suddenly, Ray was on the ground, the body of an older lady underneath him. She’d taken most of the blow thankfully, and Ray quickly got off of her as he sputtered out dozens of apologies. Then he heard glass shattering.

“Oops.” Ryan said as Ray spun around to face the older boy who wore a sheepish expression. Underneath Ryan’s foot was the blurry image of black frames and glass, which Ray had to assume were his glasses.

“No!” Ray cried as he felt tears begin to well in his eyes, and he felt a hand being placed on his shoulder.

“My boy, are you alright?” He heard a woman speak and he could only assume it was the lady he’d crashed into moments ago.

“Right now I am, but the moment I get home I’m done for! Mother will have my head for breaking another pair of frames!” He shoved his face into his palms, his tears soaking his hands and his breath getting faster.

“Ronald, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to step on them!” Ryan apologized, his voice empathetic.

“That doesn’t matter James! You still stepped on them!” Ray cried back, his hands falling to his sides as he yelled back at his friend. The two boys began bickering, tears still streaming down Ray’s face.

“Boys, I think I may have a solution to your problem.” The woman behind Ray cut in, and the younger boy spun around, facing slightly to the woman’s right. He could barely tell that she was wearing a black coat, just light enough for the Californian winter but thick enough to keep her warm. Ray sniffled, and rubbed his one eye with his fist.

“Yo- You do?” He asked hopefully. Ray couldn’t see it, but the woman smiled.

“I believe so young man. My husband happens to be a fine optometrist, and seeing as I’m partially to blame for this conundrum you now find yourselves in, I feel all but obligated to help you lad’s out. I’m sure he’d be more than glad to give you a new pair of frames free of charge.”

“Really?” The woman nodded, though Ray kept standing there.

“She’s nodding Ronnie.”

“Thank you so much!” He dove to his left, wrapping his arms around the lady. She stumbled back, and wrapped her arms around his small frame as she laughed.

“My pleasure.” She pulled back. “Now let’s go get those glasses, huh?”

The woman was pulling Ray away, a prideful smile on her face. She was blissfully unaware of the several pairs of cheap glasses Ryan was pulling out of his pocket and throwing in the garbage, nor the fact that Ray would pick-pocket her as he hugged her one final time before they left the optometry office later that afternoon. She just believed she was helping out a boy in need.

“We did it Rye!” Ray would exclaim proudly to the older boy as they left the office, a large grin on his face as his new glasses hung on his nose.

“We sure did buddy.” Ryan slung his arm around the young lad’s shoulders, a small smile on his face. “I’m proud of you.”

“Really?”

“Of course.” He glanced over to Ray, meeting his eyes as they walked. “You really had her fooled. Heck, you had me fooled.” Ray’s grin grew for a second, then he shrugged casually.

“I knew that I was that good. I’m the best” The boy boasted and Ryan found himself laughing.

“Keep telling yourself that buddy. It’ll get you far in life.”

 _‘At least,’_ Ryan thought, _‘Farther than we are now.’_

 

_June of 1924; 5 years prior_

Ray Narvaez Jr had no parents.

Well, of course he _had_ parents. _Everyone_ had parents. His just weren’t in the picture any longer.

The six year-old sometimes wondered what it would be like to have parents. A mother who chastised him to eat his vegetables and to get to school on time. A father who taught him how to throw a ball and a punch, and how to talk to girls. A family to go home to every night and who would love him regardless of what he did.

But instead, he got the church, the nuns and Father Gus to come home to at night. A cold cot with a scratchy blanket and an overworn pillow that felt as thin as cardboard. A plate of mushy food that’s either too bland or too salty. A slap or a punch if he did anything wrong, or sometimes it was from the other children who thought that it was ‘funny’.

He was miserable and alone. No one there liked him, and it’s not like any of the nuns were willing to treat him any different than the others. So he stayed to himself, tried to ignore when he got beat, and ultimately tried to survive until he was 16. That’s when he would be able to leave the orphanage, go out into the world and make a living for himself. Just 10 more years.

That was his plan, until the new kid showed up.

He had sitting in bed, reading the Bible for the umpteenth time (it was all the nuns let them read there and it was better than doing nothing), when Father Gus had strode into the room, the door banging loudly against the wall as he barged in. He was dragging a boy in with him,  the boy struggling slightly. When the Father stopped in the middle of the dorm the planted a firm hand on the boy’s shoulder, making it hard for the boy to escape. The boy, who looked to be about 10, kept his head down with his jaw clenched, his long blonde hair (which was wet) covering his eyes as he stared at the floor.

“Children,” Father Gus exclaimed, his bored tone resonating through the room. “This is James. He will be staying with us for the time being. Please treat him with the love and respect that you should.” He smiled. “Like the Lord would want you to. James, you can sleep beside Young Ray over there.” The Father pointed to the cot to Ray’s left and the boy raised his head slowly.

James looked the cot over quickly, then met Ray’s eyes. Ray stared into their icy blue colour as James took in the chocolate colour he was staring at. The older boy nodded and looked back down, something quickly crossing his face that Ray could not catch. James walked over to the cot beside Ray and sat down, bouncing on the mattress to test the strength before deeming it somewhat acceptable.

“Well then! I will be off now. Don’t forget to say your prayers before you go to bed, and I will see you all for breakfast tomorrow morning. God bless you all.” With that, Father Gus turned and walked out, slamming the creaky door behind him as he went.

Ray looked over at James quickly, noticing the older boy was looking at him as well. Ray gave a small smile, then turned back to his book. Ray heard the new kid being pestered with questions while he was reading, but he heard no response. He read a few pages more before deciding he was tired enough to go to bed, and with one last glance at the kid beside him, he turned off his lamp and went to sleep.

 

_August of 1924_

A month and a half after James arrived, things were pretty much the same as they had been before he arrived. The only difference was that Ray no longer ate meals alone. James would sit with him, but neither would try to talk to one another. Even if they didn’t talk, Ray enjoyed having the company. It made things less lonely. He also noticed James’s eyes would dart over to him a lot, almost as if he wanted to say something to the young boy, but couldn’t.

One day, almost two months after James moved into the orphanage, Ray was in a small garden behind the church. He was sitting on a bench by a rose patch, reading the Bible once more. He was about halfway through the book of John when suddenly the book was no longer in his hands. Looking up, he found a group of older kids staring down at him, their faces stretched into wide grins.

“Hey Jr, how’s it going?” Jeremy asked, his voice taunting.

“Pretty swell, how about you?” Ray retorted, his voice low and almost dead. He’d gotten used to this routine by now.

“It’ll be better once I’m done kicking your behind.” Jeremy answered, and the other children around him laughed. Ray took off his glasses, his vision blurring together as he set them down beside him.

“Well, get on with it then.” Ray sighed. Looks like he’d be sneaking into the kitchen to steal some ice tonight.

Next thing he knew, he was on the ground, rocks from the cement digging into his bare arms and face. There was a foot connecting with his abdomen and his left eye was already swollen shut. Everything was screaming in pain and Ray wanted to scream as well. Scream for help, cry out in pain, make any noise at all. But he didn’t, because he knew it would make it worse.

Suddenly, the other kids were the ones screaming and running away in terror. “What the heck man? You can’t do that!” He heard Jeremy’s friend Matt yell as his voice faded away. Just like that, the encouraging cries of the children were replaced with silence. There was a moment where Ray thought he was completely alone, but then he heard an unfamiliar voice.

“Are you OK?” The stranger’s voice asked. It was a boy’s voice, despite being deep and rich. Though his voice did sound a bit rough, almost like the boy hadn’t spoken in a while. Ray tried to give an answer but coughed instead. “Yeah, OK, that was a stupid question.” There was a beat of silence. “Shit, I don’t know how to help you.” Ray managed to cough out something that must’ve sounded like glasses and suddenly there were footsteps moving away. “-d damn, here. I didn’t even think to grab these.” He felt the frames being slipped back onto his face, and Ray opened his good eye as much as he could. While he was only able to see slightly, he managed to see James staring back at him, worry etched across his features and radiating through his blue eyes.

“Y-you c-n ta-alk?” Ray managed to ask, a bloody smile spreading across his face. James looked at the younger boy for a moment before laughing.

“Yeah buddy, I can.” He smiled for a moment, before Ray started coughing again. James immediately began to panic. “What’s wrong, what hurts, what can I d-” Ray cut him off, his eye squeezing shut momentarily.

“It-’s m’k. Happ-ns ‘ll th- tim.” He slurred, his mouth still smiling.

“This isn’t normal Ray!” James exclaimed, his voice angry and scared at the same time. There was another beat of silence with only tiny coughs filling the air before James spoke again. “Fuck, let’s get you somewhere more comfortable.” Suddenly, Ray was in the air with a strong pair of arms underneath him. He suddenly felt safe, and curled up slightly, even though it hurt a little.

“T-hat’s a bad w-rd.” James looked down at Ray, one eyebrow raised.

“Hm. I’ll keep that in mind.” James said with a smile.

They made it to the dorms, only to find them abandoned. _‘Probably licking their wounds.’_ The elder boy thought proudly. James laid Ray down gently into his own bed, the boy gasping a bit when laid down. “Damn, do you want me to move you?” James asked quickly but Ray shook his head slightly.

“No. I’m… I’m good.” Ray said quietly, his eyes slipping shut. James made a mental note to wake the young boy up in an hour, just in case his head wounds were more serious than he thought.

“OK then buddy, get some rest.” James said, smiling. The elder boy turned to walk to his own bed.

“J-James?” Ray asked quietly, and James turned back around, his eyebrows raised. “Thank you.”

“No problem.” He replied. “And, uh, call me Ryan.”

“Ryan…” Ray muttered as he closed his eyes. His word quickly went black as he rolled the name Ryan around in his head.

 

_October of 1924_

With Ryan now talking to Ray and opening up to the younger boy, things were less lonely and dull. Now about 2 months since the older boy had rescued the younger one, they had become close friends. Ryan was like an older brother to Ray, making sure he was eating right, getting the amount of sleep he should be, and keeping him safe from the other kids. Ray made sure that Ryan was happy and was determined to have the boy smile and laugh as often as possible. Sure, things weren’t perfect. Hell, they were orphans that no one wanted to take in. But they had each other, and that was all they needed. They just needed someone to take care of one another.

Ray’s black eye had finally gone away, now just a slight yellowish blemish remained under his eye, and while the boy may have been oblivious to the death stares he was receiving from Jeremy (who’s nose was slightly crooked due to the solid right hook it had gotten), Ryan was not. He was keeping a sharp eye on the kid, who was about a year or two older than Ray.

Today’s lunch consisted in a chicken stew, which was left-over from the dinner the night before. Ryan noted that it somehow had gotten blander and the chicken even more tough. He saw Jeremy, Matt and another boy leave the lunchroom, assuming that they were heading back to the dorm to do God knows what.

“Hey Ryan?” Ray asked, making Ryan look away from the door.

“Yeah buddy?”

“Can we go out and look at the roses after lunch?” The boy pleaded with a smile, his white teeth showing. They were a lot shinier without blood staining them, and Ryan could only smile in response.

“I don’t know…” Ryan said, his voice dragging on as he glanced at Ray, whose brown eyes were screaming.

“Please!” Ray begged, a puppy-dog-esque face beginning to emerge.

“Well… I guess.” Ryan said in mock-defeat and Ray cheered.

“Yes! I’m going to run to the toilet, I’ll be right back!” Ray quickly exclaimed, shoveling one last bite of soup into his mouth before rushing out of the room. Ryan’s face couldn’t help but break into a grin as he watched the boy run off, enjoying the youthfulness in a boy that had been beaten down by the world. Maybe it was because Ryan was older, but he couldn’t see the joy that Ray found in flowers or in the small things. Maybe it was because the world had beaten Ryan down too much when he was too old.

But there was something, something that told Ryan that he needed to protect this boy no matter what. Protecting Ray was step one. And if Ryan wanted to protect that youthfulness, that thing that lived on inside of Ray, he knew what he had to do.

He had to get Ray out of here, not soon, but definitely before the boy was 10. Ryan knew how mean the world got at the age of 10 (Hell, Ryan was 10, almost 11 now, and had been to Hell and back before he found Ray) and he wouldn’t subject Ray to that.

He’d keep the boy safe, no matter what.

Suddenly, he heard a cry from outside the lunchroom, one that was echoing down the long, church corridors.

_‘Failed step one.’_

“Ryan!” The voice cried, and suddenly Ryan was running. Out the door, down the hall until he encountered Jeremy and his two friends standing over a small figure that was lying on the ground.

“Oh, hey James. Here to see us pumble this loser into the ground?” Jeremy quipped, and his friends laughed. “Or are you here to protect wittle Ray?” The leader of the gang’s tone was very condescending, making Ryan’s hand clench into a fist.

“Do you want me to straighten out your nose, or break it even more _Lil’ J_?” Ryan quipped back, and the younger boy’s eyebrows furrowed.

“R-ryan?” Ray strained out, and Ryan noticed his right eye was already swollen shut.

_‘That piece of shit.’_

“You want to tussle James? I’m in the fighting mood.” Jeremy boasted, cracking his knuckles with one move. Ryan only smirked; if Ray had been looking into his eyes, he would’ve commented on how cold they looked, yet how they also burned.

“Then let’s get going.”

Ryan had Jeremy pinned against the wall and had punched him in the face 3 times before the nuns heard the commotion and pulled Ryan away from the other.

The minute Jeremy was out of his hands, Ryan tore away from the nuns and rushed over to Ray, his arms lifting up the little boy and cradling him in his arms. “Buddy, are you OK?” Ray nodded, his head bobbing a bit too fast for Ryan’s liking.

“Yeah, they mostly got my eye. I think I’m good though.” The lad said, a small smile appearing on his face. “C-can we go see the roses now?” Ryan couldn’t help but smile.

“Of course buddy.”  Ryan picked up Ray in his arms, and despite the Nuns yelling for him to get back there this second, he kept bringing Ray to the garden.

There needed to be a change in his plans. He needed to get Ray out of there, as soon as possible.

They got to the garden a few minutes later, Ryan putting Ray down onto his feet and placing an arm over the boy’s shoulders. Ryan was taller than Ray by at least 7”, if not a foot so he stood on his knees.

“Buddy, can I tell you something?” Ryan said quietly after a minute of silence. He felt Ray’s head turn and look up at him as his gaze remained on the flowers. They were wilting slightly, almost as they were prepping to go away for the winter. Ryan wondered if they would return in the spring.

“Yeah Ryan?” The younger boy asked, his voice quiet as well. It was almost like there was a peace they both didn’t want to disturb. Ryan took a deep breath.

“I- I want to keep you safe Ray. That may sound stupid but it’s true. I think of you like my little brother, and seeing you get hurt… it just…” Ryan paused, his breath shaking. The ten-year-old took a moment, then pushed on. “I feel like I failed you. You’re so young, and it hurts to see you li-” Suddenly, he felt Ray’s arms wrap around his abdomen and squeeze him tightly. Ryan stood frozen for a moment before shifting his arms free and embracing the boy himself.

“Ryan…” Ray sniffed out from where his head was buried in Ryan’s chest. “You’re not failing me. I just wanted a friend, and I got something better.” Ray looked up and Ryan met his brown eyes which were filling with tears. “I got a family.” Ray was smiling when he said this, and Ryan smiled too. The two were almost face-level, eye to eye.

“Me too buddy. Me too.” Ryan paused, his smile disappearing. “But I have to get out of here.”

He watched Ray’s smile fall. “What?” Ryan sighed.

“Bud, I realized I can’t take care of you in here. Not with those kids pushing you around every moment I’m not there. So I’m going to leave, make enough money so that we live off the streets, and come back and get you.” Ryan said this slowly, watching Ray’s eyes as he processed these words.

“But the moment you leave they’ll pick on me more! Things will be terrible again! I’ll... I’ll be all alone again!” Ray cried out, his eyes welling up with tears of a different caliber.

“It’ll be safer than living out on the streets with me. Things are even worse out there, and I need to keep you safe.”

“I don’t care Ryan! Take me with you!” Ray cried, the tears now spilling down his cheeks.

“I can’t! You’re too young!” Ryan yelled back.

“Yes you can! You know you can!” Ray screamed. “I won’t be alone again! I won’t lose another family! Especially one I know.” Ryan found himself frozen as he watched the boy in front of him yell. Ray’s eye met Ryan’s and it looked as bright as an ember. “You said we were like brothers, right? Well, brothers don’t leave each other! I- I…” Ray broke down sobbing, wrapping his arms around Ryan’s neck. Ryan embraced the boy tightly, clinging to him as well as he began to shed some tears of his own.

“I just don’t wanna’ be alone again.” Ray whispered, and Ryan hugged him tighter. He was going to regret the next few words that came out of his mouth, but at the same time he knew he wouldn’t. All Ryan knew, was that it wasn’t going to be easy.

But had anything in their lives been easy up to this point?

“OK. We’ll run away; together.”

“R-Really?” Ray asked, his voice small and shaky.

“Yes.” Ryan said, his eyes squeezed shut. He heard a small sniffle, and he somehow knew Ray was smiling.

“Thank you.” He said quietly, and all Ryan could do was hold him tighter.

That night would be the last time the Church ever saw Ryan and Ray.

 

_September of 1944 (19 years after they left); Los Santos California_

It had almost been 20 years. 20 years had flown by, and yet Ray still felt like it’d only been like a week.

Maybe that’s what happens when you’re making a living with your best friend. With your brother who would stand with you no matter what. Ryan and Ray had grown closer through their cold nights together on the streets, and the sparse food they managed to provide one another.

They managed to get enough money for an apartment when Ray was 15, after Ryan had saved up enough from robbing larger brand stores and pick-pocketing the wealthier-looking folks. The depression had helped their cause as well, allowing them to eat a warm meal every night instead of scavenging for food like they had before.

Then the war had begun, and things had gotten easier again. By not existing in the system (Neither of them really had any ID, and it’s not like they had used their real names to nab the apartment) they had no chances to be drafted, and with most of the men gone overseas, a lot of the jobs were opened up to women and the unemployed.

Ryan had become a bodyguard for anyone who wanted any extra protection (it was mostly bigoted folks who wanted security from anyone who had an accent, but hey, Ryan wouldn’t complain about the extra cash) and had learned how to shoot a gun. He turned out to be an amazing shot, and also had been fantastic with throwing knives and using any type of blade. The first time he’d shown Ray, he’d scoffed. “Show-off.” The younger lad had muttered and Ryan had chuckled and messed with Ray’s hair.

Ryan had wanted Ray to keep a pistol on him at all times, for when Ryan couldn’t be there to protect him. When teaching Ray how to shoot, the pair had discovered how great Ray was at a long range. His close range wasn’t terrible per say but it wasn’t the best. On the other side of the coin, he would hit a bullseye every time when he was 50 feet away. Ray joked that it was the glasses. Ryan had brought out a sniper rifle for Ray to try (the shooting range was willing to let the pair try whatever they pleased; mostly out of fear when they witnessed Ryan’s shooting skills) and his shot was improved ten-fold (“You’re a great shot with that thing Ray.”

“I know right? I feel like we should buy one of these!”

“... Why?”

“‘Cause I’m a badass with it?”

“...Maybe for Christmas.”

“Ryan please!”

Needless to say, on December 26th of that year, they owned a sniper rifle.).

Ray was working as a cashier at the local supermarket, mostly due to not wanting to work in the factories and not being able to be hired anywhere else. It was easy money, and he occasionally got to tell off customers (which was the bee’s knees).

He was walking home one day from work, a pair of blue dress slacks and a white shirt covering his body, suspenders over his shoulders and a navy-blue bowtie around his neck. His work uniform was rather classy if he said so himself. He was about a block away from their apartment (not home; Ryan was his home) when he passed by a small alleyway. He planned to keep walking by when he heard a loud voice yelling further down.

Ray paused for a moment, hesitating before saying fuck it and heading down the alley. Slowly pulling his revolver out of his waist-band he walked down the alley, hearing a heated debate from the other end.

“-old Ramsey, I don’t got the money!”

“Trust me, he got the message. He just doesn’t give a damn.”

“Well, what the hell d'ya want me to do about it? It was a dead end!”

“Maybe pull your head outta’ ya’ ass and get my boss the money you promised?”

“I already said I can’t do that!”

“Well then,” Ray watched as a man in a brown fighter-pilot’s leather jacket pulled out a gun and aimed at the man’s head. “You’re no fucking use to us, are ya’?”

“Um… Is everything cool here guys?” Ray spoke up, his voice shaking a little bit. He watched the man in the leather jacket and the ‘friends’ he was surrounded with turned around.

“Who the fuck are you?” The man in the jacket snarled, who couldn’t have been older than 28, his eyebrows furrowing.

“I’m Ray, glad to make your acquaintance.” He replied with a bit of sarcasm in his tone. “Just wanted to make sure there was no trouble between you and your friend there. I can tell you’re very close.” Almost as if bringing up the man stirred something inside of him, Ray watched as the man quickly got to his feet and pushed past the men, running down the alleyway and dashing by Ray.

“Shit.” Leather Jacket growled. He turned to the man to his left. “Go after him. Bring him back to the base.” The man dashed off, leaving Ray alone with Jacket and 3 others. “Now we’ll deal with this idiot.”

Ray took a few steps back, giving himself at least 20 feet between him and the group. His grip was tight around the pistol’s grip. “Listen pal, I don’t want any trouble.”

“I can tell.” The man smirked, and raised his gun. “Too bad you’re gonna’ get some.” Ray let the silence linger for a moment before sighing, closing his eyes, and smirking back.

“OK. Fair game.” Quickly raising the gun to eye level, he gripped the stock with both hands and fired at the man on Jacket’s left, hitting a direct shot right through the man’s eye. He turned and fired to the right, hitting a second goon right above the nose. Catching a glimpse of the middle man raising his gun, Ray took notice of a dumpster to his right and dove behind it quickly, shielding himself from the gun-fire.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck.” He muttered over and over again. His hand was shaking slightly, and he tightened his grip to make up for it.

“Come back out you fuck!” He heard one of the men yell, and Ray took a deep breath. Jumping back out, he swung his pistol in the direction of the 3rd man, the shot he fired hitting him just above the elbow. The man cried out and fell to the ground, blood pouring out of the wound. Finally, Ray turned his focus to where leather would be, aiming his pistol-

And then the revolver wasn’t in his hands anymore. Flying out of his hand, it scraped across the pavement, landing towards the entrance to the alley. Ray turned his gaze back to his hand, only to meet a pair of fiery auburn eyes before he took a punch to the jaw. He collapsed to the ground, his glasses flying off his face and bouncing off the concrete. Ray groaned for a moment, his hand reaching up to clutch his jaw, but then he was picked up by the scruff of his shirt and thrown across the alley, his body rolling across the stones and his skin being rubbed raw.

Wincing for a moment, Ray struggled for a moment to open his eyes. Managing to squeeze them open, he saw a blur of Jacket striding towards him, Ray could only imagine with a smirk. Using the arm that wasn’t screaming in pain, he pulled himself backwards slowly until moments later he hit the wall.

_‘Welp, shit.’_

He felt like he was back in the garden all those years ago, waiting to get his ass kicked by a bigger asshole than himself. Except this time he wasn’t going to walk away. He wouldn’t see Ryan again, see his blue eyes light up when learning something new, see his dead-pan look when Ray made a joke.

He wouldn’t see his best friend ever again.

“Well, get on with it then.” Ray sighed, his voice cracking slightly. At least he would go out swinging.

“Any last words, asshole?” Jacket said, clicking the safety off of his revolver and pointing the cold steel towards his forehead. Ray wasn’t there though, he was back in that hallway in the church, with Jeremy standing over him, swinging his fist towards his eye with a large grin. The kid inside of him was screaming, calling out for the one person who would keep him safe.

So the adult in him did too.

“Ryan!”

\---

Ryan had been walking home when he heard the first gun-shot go off. Something stirred inside him, that something in his gut that drove him all those years ago told him that he needed to get to the source as soon as possible. So he started walking faster, and his pace only increased when the second one went off moments later.

When the third shot went off he was jogging, feeling almost terrified yet calm. ‘It’s probably nothing Haywood; you’re being paranoid.’ His brain yelled, but something kept him going, moving forward.

He was maybe a block and a half from his and Ray’s apartment. The small room with one bed that they shared and 3 houseplants (Two ferns and a cactus that Ray had insisted upon buying), the small kitchen with only a stove and a fridge, and a small toilet off to the side. He was close to the place he and Ray called home (Yet it wasn’t home, was it? His home was Ray) when he heard a cry.

Suddenly, he was back in that lunchroom all those years ago, hearing his name echo through the building. Except this time it was echoing through the wind, and Ryan found himself failing step one all over again.

“Ryan!”

He was running, pulling his pistol out from his waistband and clicking the safety off. He found himself turning down a small alleyway, and found himself staring at two bodies and a man in a brown fighter-pilot’s leather jacket who’s back was facing Ryan. There was another man struggling to stand beside him, a wound in his arm bleeding heavily.

And behind the man in the jacket, he saw Ray, who had his eyes squeezed shut not in fear, but in acceptance.

“No one’s coming to save you kid.” The man laughed, his voice almost malicious. “It’s just you and me.”

So Ryan fired two shots, hitting both of the men standing over his friend clean through their skulls.

“Tell that to my gun, asshole.” Ryan muttered, and he watched as Ray tentatively opened his eyes.

“R-Ryan?” Ray asked quietly, his eyes squinting together as if he was trying to see. Suddenly, Ryan realized Ray wasn’t wearing his glasses.

“Oh shit.” Ryan glanced around, and noticed the pair of glasses were lying a few feet to his right. Grabbing them, he ran over and knelt by Ray, slipping the glasses onto Ray’s face with a smile. “It’s ok buddy, I’m here.” He said. He saw Ray blink a few times, and then smile.

“I knew you’d come.” He said almost cockily.

“How the hell’d you know that?” Ryan asked, and Ray chuckled.

“Not a fucking clue.” Ryan smiled and laughed as well.

“Well, thank god I was here. I-” Ryan paused. “I don’t want to lose you Ray. Fuck- I _can’t_ lose you Ray.” He felt tears welling in his eyes and once again he was back in that church, standing in that garden with Ray by his side. He was pulled back when Ray’s arms swung around his neck and pulled him close.

“I know.” Ray whispered, his eyes squeezing out tears as well. “Neither can I.”

They sat there for a few moments, holding each other close as the reminded themselves of who they were and what they meant to each other. Finally, Ray started to pull back and was about to crack some cheesy joke about how they were hugging it out around a pile of bodies when Ray noticed a gun being raised once more.

“Rya-” Before he could finish a bullet had gone clean through his skull and he was gone.

Ryan felt Ray’s body go limp in his arms and he pulled the body back slightly, grasping the younger lad’s head in his hands. “Ray?” He whispered quietly, feeling the blood from the wound slip through his fingers. “Ray? Ray, answer me dammit!” Ryan found himself screaming now, tears pouring down his cheeks and blurring his vision. “Wake up Ray, don’t leave me alone...please wake up…”

“Doubt that he will, it’s a possibility that he could though.” Ryan turned around, his anguish turning to rage as he saw the assailant of his best friend, of his family. While his vision was still blurry, he managed to catch the brown of a leather jacket.

Almost instantly, Ryan’s hand was around the man’s throat and he was pinned against the wall. Still smiling, the man chuckled. “Tight grip you got there pal. Maybe wanna’ loosen that a bit?”

“How the fuck are you alive? I shot you in the head. Clear through your skull.” Ryan growled, his eyes alive; on fire.

“Ever hear of immortality?”

“That’s impossible.”

“Bwah! Wrong answer!” Jacket teased, a cocky grin on his face. “Blessing and a curse in my opinion, but hey, I make due.”

“By killing innocent strangers on the street?”

“He let my target get away! I have to tie up loose ends.”

“Loose ends for what?”

“Puppy-breeding.” Jacket dead-panned. “Criminal activity dumbass! I can’t have assholes like you running around saying you defeated Mogar, not only is that bad for the image, my boss will kill me!”

“He won’t get the chance.” Ryan’s grip tightened around Mogar’s neck, and the man laughed wheezily.

“You can’t kill me idiot, and neither can he. I’ll just keep coming back. The whole crew is.”

“Then I’ll keep killing you. Then I’ll kill whatever gang you’re a part of, and your boss as well.” Ryan began yelling, his voice echoing throughout the alley. “I’ll kill everyone you care for, because that’s what you did to me! You killed the only family I had you fuck!” The man in his hands was silent for a moment.

“Think again.” Mogar suddenly said calmly, with a smirk on his face. Ryan only got angrier.

“What the fuck are you talking about?” He seethed, and it looked like he would get an answer from the man until he heard a cough from behind him. Ryan whipped his head around, searching for the source of the noise.

Then he saw Ray struggling to sit up, a hand gripping his head as if he was trying to shake off a bad migraine. “Ryan?”

“R-ray?” Ryan breathed out, his eyes wide.

“What happened?” Ray asked, his eyes still shut. It was almost as if he was waking up from a bad dream. Ryan ran over to Ray’s side, and pulled him into an embrace. Squeezing him tightly, Ryan began to sob again, holding his best friend. Ray hugged him back, though the lad was still confused. “Hey, it’s OK. I’m here Rye.”  
“Fuck, Ray you were dead. You died and I- Fuck Ray.” Ryan sobbed into Ray’s shoulder and Ray was silent for a moment.

“I- uh… Thought we agreed that was a bad word Ryan.” Ray choked out, and Ryan sniffled and chuckled a bit.

“Yeah buddy, we did.”

“I hate to break up this, _truly_ heart-felt moment, but now that your friend is still alive I kinda’ can’t let you guys leave.” Mogar’s voice cut in and the pair turned and looked at the man, who was holding a pistol in his hand. Noticing the pairs tense stares, he realized what he was holding and laughed. “Right. I’m not going to shoot you. It’d be pointless for one of you anyways. I do, however, have to bring you in to talk to my boss.”

“Why the hell should we trust you?” Ray asked, slowly remembering what had transpired before he’d… passed on.

“Because I’m like you, and my boss likes to keep tabs on people like us. Besides, you both seem like decent shots. Those are the type of people we like to have in our crew.” Mogar smirked. “Also, you don’t really get a choice.”

“We’ll come.” Ryan said, and while Ray looked sort of annoyed that they at least didn’t talk things through before going with the man who’d literally murdered one of them moments before, he understood that’s where they would have ended up anyways. “Though I wouldn’t mind knowing the name of the man we’re going to see.”

“Ramsey.” Mogar offered, and while Ray looked confused, Ryan raised an eyebrow.

“You don’t mean… _Geoff_ Ramsey, do you? Criminal tycoon?” Ryan asked and Mogar only smiled.

 

\---

_March of 1948; 4 years later_

The day Ryan died Ray felt the world stop.

They’d been with the Crew since the day Ray had ‘passed on’, meeting Geoff and being offered jobs a few weeks later. Ray and Ryan had argued a bit over whether or not to take the offer, their argument waking up their neighbours. (“Ray, I don’t want you in the field like that.”

“I’ll be out of the way, sniping remember? Besides, I can’t die. You can.”

“I can take care of myself, and we still aren’t sure how well that holds up.”

“Ryan please, I think I want to do this, and I know you do too.”

“... I don’t want to watch you die again Ray.”

“And you won’t.”)

Ray always made sure he was outside of Ryan’s vision or reach when he was reckless (thankfully, it was a lot), not wanting to scare him half to (a hopefully not permanent) death. But Ray was always terrified that he’d have to watch Ryan die, somehow and somewhere. He didn’t want to watch the life bleed out of him, see his blue eyes lose their fire and hear that voice stop. That’s why Ray watched Ryan through his scope the most, being the eyes on his back.

Because he wasn’t willing to risk the fact that Ryan may not be immortal. And he wasn’t going to live the rest of eternity alone.

The day Ryan died was relatively normal. Geoff had split the group up into teams, each having their own shit to get done. Jack was going with Ryan to a couple of swaps (arms for money, money for arms, etc.), Ray and Michael were going to scout out some banks for a heist they were planning, and the remaining two were going to be taking care of stuff at the loft. Ray figured Jack could keep Ryan safe. Both were a good shot. Both knew who wasn’t guaranteed to come back.

Oh how wrong Ray was.

Ray and Michael had been back for a while, and were shooting billiards while Geoff and Gavin stood huddled over a map in the kitchen. Things were fairly quiet asides from the occasional squawk from Gavin or an outburst from Michael.

Ray was actually surprised at how close he and Michael were. The two had been cautious around each other at first, the latter especially around Ryan. Soon after though, they had overcome their differences and had become close. They often joked that they could have been better friends if their first interaction hadn’t involved so much blood.

Ray had been about to crack some cheesey joke about pool and sinking a ball into a hole when the door had flown open and Jack had stumbled in, his body supporting a shape over his shoulder. “What the fuck?” Michael had asked, but his voice cut off in Ray’s head as he stared at the person Jack had carried in over his shoulder.

And how Ryan’s white shirt was stained red.

Ray froze in place, hearing Jack stammer out something about how they’d been set up and how Ryan had jumped in front of Jack to protect him. Ray managed to snap out of his daze and rushed over to where Jack was lying Ryan down on the couch, kneeling by his side.

“No no no.” Ray stammered, grabbing Ryan’s hand that was dangling off the side. “You fucking idiot, you’re not gonna’ die on me OK? Ryan, you’re not gonna’ die.” Ryan groaned, and opened one eye slightly.

“R-Ray?”  
“Don’t talk Rye, save your energy.” Ray turned to Jack, his eyes wide. “How bad is he?” Jack was silent for a moment, before he sighed and looked at Ray.

“Ray, I…” Another sigh. “I think a bullet went through his lung. And another hit some major organs... I’m sorry.”

_‘No.’_

“There’s gotta’ be something, anything you can do!” Ray exclaimed, and Jack bit his lip.

“We can put him out of his misery.” Geoff said quietly and Ray spun around and glared at him.

“Are you fucking insane? No! I won’t let you do that.” Ray yelled, his eyes beginning to tear up. “I won’t lose him.” There was a moment where all that could be heard was Ray’s sobs.

“D-do it.” Ryan breathed, his eyes squeezed shut.

Ray didn’t even respond, he just cried harder. Ray heard the safety being clicked off a gun and he felt like he couldn’t breath.

“R-Ray?” Ryan managed, his voice so low. Ray sniffed, and managed to gather words.

“Y-Yeah Rye?”

“If I don’t come back,” Ryan paused, taking a deep breath. “J-just know that I don’t re… regret getting you outta’ th-at church.”

“I don’t regret leaving.” Ray choked out, and he squeezed his eyes shut when he heard a gunshot being fired and he found himself screaming.

“Ryan!”

 

_October of 2015 (91 years since they left); Los Santos California_

Ray found that he couldn’t regret a damn thing.

It’d been a bumpy road to get to this point, sure. They’d had to run away, fend for themselves in the street, fight off the world together.

Fuck, they even had to die. They faced death and told him to fuck off. Find some other assholes who killed people for a living.

So as they drove down the highway on Ryan’s motorcycle, the wind blowing through their hair and Ray’s arm hugging Ryan’s abdomen. He was smiling, his laugh echoing through the streets of Los Santos as they weaved between cars.

They were invincible. They were _immortal,_ bitch.

And despite facing the odds, despite being kids when they were forced to become adults, despite having to rely on faith for most of their lives, they’d somehow made it out alive.

They both found their family. They both found their best friend. They found each other.

So while they laid in bed together, holding each other close (despite having their own bed; they found that they couldn’t sleep otherwise), Ray would ask Ryan if they’d be together forever.

Ryan said he wouldn’t have it any other way.

**Author's Note:**

> Review?


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